


all's fair in love and war

by thir13enth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, and a crafty shiro, featuring a confident allura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 17:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8721880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: remember that one time that shiro actually beat allura in arm wrestling?





	

**Author's Note:**

> a slightly more playful shiro than i've written in the past.
> 
> (think of this as how he is in bed.)

It's not a surprise they head straight from quick verbal quips to a full-blown arm wrestle — Allura is more than happy to show the humans on board just how strong she really is, and Shiro is all too curious to see just exactly how her strength feels against him.

So when he sees the smirk hidden in her eyes and she sees the challenged tucked behind his, there's a somewhat coordinated movement toward the nearest counter — whatever it is, even if it's the dirty dinner table — for them to prop their elbows up and slide their fingers into each other's palms, skin to metal, metal to skin.

There are no differences in customs here — both of them very well know the look of a fight on each other's eyes.

The Paladins are divided in their support: Lance and Hunk are already hooting and hollering for their one and only princess to take home the winning prize. Pidge probably feels like supporting Shiro, but instead joins the probably winning side as well, just because there is no point in joining the cause just to cheer for the underdog.

Keith, on the other hand, looks conflicted, perhaps because he feels a little bad about the Black Paladin not having any vocal support, and so he somewhat meekly gives out a shout for Shiro. Coran, old and wise, thinks that he’s supported Allura enough throughout his entire life to let go of his loyalty to the royal crown for just one arm wrestle match, and so gives a short and crisp hoot for Shiro — because let’s face it, his ten-thousand-year-old self doesn’t quite know how to cheer as rambunctiously as the much younger generation.

And even the mice telepathically hear through Allura’s excited brain waves that shit is going down, and they immediately skitter over to the table, sniffing out the competition.

“You know humans don’t stand a chance against Alteans, right?” she teases, tensing her arm.

Without hesitation, he returns the same amount of tension. The gears in his metal arm whir.

“Well I’m not all _human_ now am I?” he threatens.

She lets out a slow whistle between pursed lips. She didn’t expect such a comeback from Shiro, but she’s more and more realizing that the former flight commander probably did have a competitive edge in him to get to the point that he had, and she rather likes this side of him that’s breaking through.

She returns a practiced smile, without a drop of sweat. She flexes just a little more, feeling the skin around her bicep stretch.

She leans in. “I don’t even have to _shape shift_ to beat you,” she growls.

He laughs softly. Leans in. “I guess I’ll have to see you try.”

Her eyebrow raises. She’s not sure if the others are hearing the playful banter happening between the two of them — it must be a privilege to see Shiro in any way aside from gentle and kind, and she likes that he knows that she trusts him enough to do his worst.

“Oh, I’ll show you,” she replies, and then suddenly and without warning, she jerks both of their elbows up and waves their arms left and right to forcibly push away the dirty dishes on the table, letting plates and glasses and utensils clatter to the floor — clearing the table for some arm wrestle space.

From the corner of her eye, she sees Coran catching each and every single piece of dinnerware, a scowl on his face muttering quiznaks under his breath about how irresponsible “the kids” were being.

“Eyes on me, Princess,” Shiro warns. “You don’t want to lose while you’re not paying attention, now do you?”

Her eyes dart back to his dark and focused eyes, a bright glint in them.

She returns a smile.

“As _if_ I’m going to lose,” she replies.

And then in one quick motion, she throws the back of his hand against the table with a sound smack.

No mercy given.

The paladins throw their hands up into the air, with a loud cheer for the princess — complete with oh shits, holy fucks, and hell yeahs — and Coran immediately scolds them about their language.

Allura smugly smiles, taking her hand back to herself and folding her arms across her chest.

Shiro’s smile doesn’t fade either. But he does keep his elbow on the table, hand propped up for another go. He motions for her to come forward again for another round.

She can’t help herself but lean forward again to settle a second win.

“What?” she asks him. “Was I too fast or did you not see that coming?”

“Both,” he replies without a hesitation. “I’d like to see you try that again.”

She snorts softly. “Not a problem at all.”

Once their elbows are locked and set in place, she flicks her wrist to slam his hand back down on the table — except to her surprise, there is no satisfying sound of the smack of his hand against the table.

And when she looks to see where their hands are, she sees that he’s actually stopped her halfway.

Their clasped hands shake in their opposing tension.

She sees the smirk on his face just behind that.

Well. It seems that Shiro’s got game after all, she muses to herself.

And then slowly, she sees his hand pushing back up on her hand, and before she knows it, their hands are reset back in the center.

There’s a hush around them as the Paladins, Coran, and the mice realize that Shiro isn’t actually down quite yet. She’s not sure who is more surprised to see Shiro lasting —them or her.

Shiro holds his breath, his eyebrows furrowing as he concentrates. He doesn’t let his smile go though, a master of making everything look easier than it actually is.

Her smile doesn’t fade either. She doesn’t want to give away that she’s struggling, even if only a little bit.

She could use her natural Altean abilities to afford a little more of her energy into her right arm, but she doesn’t. That’s going against her promise to not shape shift from the start, and if there is something that Allura isn’t, it’s being a cheater.

After all, it feels better to win when it’s fair and square.

She exhales sharply and then slowly focuses on her arm. She can feel her putting some of her core muscles into the motion, and her left thigh rising a little bit.

And slowly slowly but ever so surely his hand starts to falter back down to the table.

She’d look up to see the expression on his face — to see if her strength has wiped the smirk off his face — but she hates to admit that her eyes are focused on the distance between the back of his hand and the surface of the table because he’s actually giving her a little bit of challenge.

And finally _finally_ his hand knocks onto the table.

The crowd around the two of them goes wild. Another round of curses and cheers, and another round of the older Altean scolding them all.

She can’t help herself from standing up from her seat in victory, brushing down her pants. She shakes out the muscles in her arms, looking back down at him.

He shakes his arm out to get the tension out and then rests his elbow back on the table, hand open and receptive for hers.

“One more time,” he says, smirk on his face. “I think I’m starting to get the hang of this.”

She can’t resist his smile. She sits back down and settles her hand back into his.

“You just love losing, don’t you?” she teases.

His eyes don’t leave hers. “Well,” he replies, “I guess if it’s against you, I don’t mind.”

“Huh,” she remarks.

And so they go for their third round of arm wrestling.

She decides to start carefully this time — because at least from what she’s noticed, it seems like he’s been getting stronger with each iteration. And at least from what she’s observed the last time, Shiro isn’t exactly the easiest person to throw down.

“Ready?” she asks him, nevertheless, not letting down her cool.

“Always,” he replies.

And coordinated, they start their match.

Allura puts about three-quarters of her full strength in — but she is somewhat disappointed to see that his hand still meets hers halfway.

And as much as she loves the feel of his resistance against her palm, she is not a loser.

If there’s one thing she’s worried about, it’s her stamina — she knows she’s at full power, so the longer she goes, the weaker she gets — and as for Shiro… well and even now, to this day she’s still not sure the full extent of his strength.

The faster, the better, she determines.

So she puts in all her strength and then slowly watches his hand faltering down to the table.

A smile forms across her face —

But then he quickly leans in and presses his lips onto her cheek, kissing her soundly.

Her eyes widen in surprise, and her muscles go slack, and as he sits back into his seat and throws the back of her hand against the table declaratively, all she can do is watch a sly smile form over his face.

The Paladins go crazy. Some of the mice faint.

And Coran?

The older Altean shakes his hand, rolling his eyes.

Feeling her cheeks heat up, Allura blinks several times, a grin stretching across her lips.

"Nice technique," she mutters to herself.

Best to use it next time, she thinks, seeing the smirk on his lips — exactly where she thinks to land her next attack.


End file.
